237
Aligned Design
Ch 43
The Deakins family finished their dinners and headed to the movie plex down the block. Jim and Angie walked hand-in-hand while Julie walked a head of them as she had when she was little. They could keep an eye on her this way.
"Dad, which movie did you choose?" Julie said, turning around, walking backward.
"I haven't decided yet," he looked at his wife and said, "Which one are you thinking?"
Julie continued to walk backward. "Julie, turn around or walk beside us. You're going to run into someone," Angie scolded her daughter who turned around with attitude. "I don't know, sex, slash, or crime – some choice, huh?"
"Julie, which one do you want to see?" Deakins called.
Julie stopped, waited for them to catch up and then said, "Sex, I want to see the sex one. I can get in with you, even though it is PG-17. Right?"
"You want to see a sex movie sitting between your old mum and dad?" Deakins asked her.
"I am not sitting with you!"
"Oh, yes you are, young lady. Right here, between your mother and me."
"Dad! Mum, make him let me sit somewhere else. Please?"
"Julie, I think you should sit with us, too. It will be nice, our little family watching a sex flick together. We can discuss it afterward. You know, what you learned, what your dad learned. What I want your dad to try first. It will be nice."
"Oh, My, God! I cannot believe you two are my parents." Julie strode ahead dramatically.
Deakins squeezed his wife's hand and they shared a silent smile.
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"Ok, here, five hundred dollars. Now, let's go get my friend and see what other fun we can have." Jenese and Kyle, the hotel desk manager, had had a quick little tryst in the back seat of Kyle's car. Then they drove to the check 'n cash the clerk he had suggested. Canvettelli had wired the money to Kyle so he could accept it as he had identification. Jenese had promised him five hundred dollars to help him and Tilley get situated.
Kyle was turning out to be a great find. He could lick and suck like no one else Jenny had had. He cooperated with the money and drove Jenny to get it; and, he took Jenny to the train station for two tickets to New York tomorrow morning; and, he was going to get Jenny and Tilley a complementary room for tonight – he would be joining them – and, he would take them to the train in the morning. What a nice guy! Almost too good to be true.
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Eames and Sledge decided to see a movie at the movie plex on Lexington near Chambray. They didn't know what they wanted to see and stood in the lobby, looking up at the choices.
"Want to see something dirty?" Sledge asked.
"They don't show that kind of movie here," Eames said with exasperation.
"How about that one, 'Orgasmic Dreams'? Sounds good to me," he replied.
"Whatever," Eames was preoccupied with Sledge's profession of love. She still didn't know what to make of it. She had noticed a change in him lately, a good change. Or had she changed? Maybe they both had changed and it was supposed to be.
Maybe she loved Edward. No, no way! I like him, she thought, a lot, but I don't think I love him. Not yet. What! – not yet? What the hell does that mean?
"Hon? Alex."
"What? I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"Are you ok?"
"Yes, yes. I was just thinking; that's all."
"I've got you all flustered, don't I?" Sledge gave her a hug and he felt grand. "Do you want extra butter on the popcorn?"
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"Ok, how about this," Julie suggested, "We go in together, but I don't sit between you. I sit somewhere else, where you can see me, because I know that is important to you, because you don't trust me and all that. How about if I sit in the row in front of you? You can see me but I can't see you. Deal?"
"That sounds fair, right Mum?" he said to his wife.
"All right. You'll stay put, though, won't you, whilst your dad and I are making out in the row behind you. Ok?" Angie said with a straight face.
Julie groaned and rolled her eyes. "Can I have a large bucket of popcorn?"
The three got in the concession line.
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Rain slashed the corn, puddles formed on the road ahead of her. Lightening lit the sky. The wind dragged its fingers through her hair as the rain turned it into red rags. It was cold and she was so wet, so tired. Where are they?
The dry, scratchy corn bent in the wind, brown and wrinkled leaves flew by. She couldn't see beyond the length of her arm. Lightening flashed and sizzled into a tree up ahead, cracking it onto the road. She would have to go around it.
She climbed over the rail fence and dropped into the field. Her feet sank into the mud. She began walking. The mud sucked at her foot falls and she walked as though weights were attached to her legs. She started down the knoll and began to slip. Another flash of lightening. There! She caught a glimpse of someone. Two men. She prayed for another flash.
Gleason slipped and fell, hurting her back. She struggled up, trying to keep her feet under her. Oh, her back hurt. Flash! That's Bobby and Gavin! Standing close, Gavin had his hand on Bobby's shoulder. She was walking and walking but not getting any closer, she thought.
Flash! Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no. That was not what she saw. No. She saw Bobby holding the limp body of their little boy. Bobby was crying. No, no. Her little boy! What's wrong with him? Bobby! She tried to run, her back hurt, Bobby, Christian! Her son had her father's name, Christian.
Gleason moaned and whimpered in her sleep and drew up her knees. Bobby heard her and turned over to look at her. She settled and he pulled the covers up over her shoulder, then he lay back down.
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"Jimmy, isn't that Alex over there?" Angie recognized Eames from the back. She was standing under the arm of a tall, broad man.
"Where?" Deakins looked right, scanned the line and saw one half of his best pair of detectives standing with . . . oh dear God, that's Sledge.
"Who is she with? That's not Bobby Goren, is it?"
"No, no. That's Edward Sledge. I never would have put those two together." Jimmy Deakins always hated these kinds of encounters. He always felt so awkward. He never knew what to say. It was like being in two different worlds – the work world and the life world. He was fine with his people in the work world; but out here, he just didn't know how to be with his people. "Maybe they won't see us."
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It started to rain just outside Melbourne, New York. In fact it was more than rain, it was an absolute torrent. The wipers were not keeping up with the onslaught. Alphonse could barely see. Everyone was slowing down. He kept his eyes on the ass end of the semi in front of him. He intended to follow the truck's tail lights. A few more hours, he said to himself.
Alphonse wanted to get to a payphone to call Davey. He'd go to Davey's place and they'd open up those crates in the back. He would keep his little stash of found money his little secret. Davey was known to have sticky fingers – and not in the good way.
He turned up the radio again and his head and fingers kept time with the tune. Then, suddenly, he couldn't quite understand what that huge bang was behind him. Nor could he understand why he was suddenly speeding into the back end of that semi. Nor could he understand why the glass was crackling in front of him. Nor could he understand why he could see himself inside the crushed vehicle from way up here.
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The Deakins family stood together, munching popcorn, sipping soda, waiting for the movie to open up.
Sledge and Eames stood together, Sledge munching popcorn, sipping soda, waiting for the movie to open up.
"Hey, isn't that Alex, Dad? Hey, Alex! Hi! Dad, look it's Alex." Julie started over to greet the tiny detective. Deakins could have killed her. Alex and Sledge both had that deer in the headlight look.
Oh great, the three thought simultaneously.
"Hi, Alex. Who's your date? Do you work for my dad, too?" Julie might have been fifteen years old, but sometimes she acted like she was eight – a bold eight.
"Hi, Julie. This is Edward Sledge, another detective in your dad's department." Alex said to the girl, looking for her boss. Oh great, here they come, she thought.
"Hi," Julie said to Edward.
"Yeah, hi," he returned.
"Well, I see you finally got out of there tonight, Sledge." Deakins said.
Angie smiled and nodded to the pair. "Julie, come over here; stand with me. Let your father talk."
"Uh, yeah, I left shortly after you did."
The tension could have been bottled and would have fed a third world nation for months. No one knew what to say, no one knew where to look. Thank goodness Sledge had dropped his arm from around Eames when he started in on the popcorn. It could just be two work buddies out to see a movie. Right; just two work buddies.
"We're going to see the sex movie, which one are you guys going to see?" Julie had no boundaries. Deakins reddened, he couldn't help it. He would kill his daughter later and spend the rest of his life in prison; he didn't care.
"Oh, yeah? We'll what do you know? So are we," Sledge said, noticing his boss's change of color. "I've heard it's pretty good. Kind of an art film. Everything is done tastefully." He was tempted to make a remark about the 'tastefully' part but thought better of it.
"Yeah, I know," said Julie, "it won some kind of paternity award or something. Right Mum?"
"It won the Patagonia Award or some such thing, not 'paternity,' Julie." Angie rolled her eyes as if to say whose child is this anyway?
Deakins continued to die, right there. Thank God, the line started to move. They all trooped down the corridor to the theatre together. Once inside, Eames and Sledge went one way, and the Deakins clan went another. Julie scampered into the row ahead of her parents and kept turning around, looking for Eames and Sledge.
"Julie, stop gawking," Deakins said to his daughter.
She spotted the couple, "There they are!" and she waved. Eames returned the wave weakly.
"I cannot believe this," Eames said. Sledge put his arm around her, his other hand digging into the bucket on her lap.
"Ha, this is great. I'm glad we're up here. We can see what they do. I bet Ange feels him up during the dirty parts."
"Jesus Christ, Edward. You know, sometimes you have absolutely no class." Eames was honestly disgusted.
"Oh, come on. You're gonna feel me up, right? I'm counting on it."
This is the man who loves me, she thought. Eames had a huge reality check. He's a boor! But, he was right, she planned on feeling what he had, getting him ready for later. She had missed her man, all right.
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Bobby slept lightly after he heard Gleason whimper in her sleep. She moaned again later and he turned once more. She had turned over and was facing him. He saw her grimace and pull up her legs. He wondered what she was dreaming watching her eyes move under her lids.
Bobby turned over and faced her, watching her sleep. She is beautiful, he thought. He carefully smoothed hair from her face and she moved against his hand. God he loved her. Gleason grimaced again and moaned, shifting her legs. Bobby wondered if she was dreaming or hurting. He pulled up the cover over her shoulder. She settled.
He looked at the clock, nine forty-nine. He got up, slipped into his jeans and went down the hall.
He got himself a glass of orange juice and snagged a roll from the bag. He ate it without butter, just a bit remained and he saved it for Gleason. Then he got her lap top and his portfolio and moved to the far corner of the sofa. He opened up the computer, logged on and searched for information about pregnancy. His portfolio was open on the cushion beside him. We need to get a printer, he thought.
So far, Gleason had just about every one of the symptoms. Bobby made notes and thought about each one. Throwing up in the morning – oh yeah. Craving – she's been crazy for bread. Increased sex drive – she's horny, all right. Frequent urination – yep, she gets up in the night to go; Bobby knew every time she left the bed and he waited until she returned beside him before he went back to sleep. Sensitivity to some smells – tomato sauce and coffee; what else, I wonder. Imagined olfactory sensations from scent free objects – huh, Eames said she could smell moonbeams. Enlarged breasts – thought so; although, they didn't seem to be tender or sore like some women experience. Missed periods – don't know, she's never had a period since she's lived here, not that I know of.
Bobby went from site to site; reading, learning. He looked at embryonic development. He learned about hormonal changes and their subsequent behavioral changes; he wanted to know what was coming. From sites about pregnancy and gestation, prenatal health, nutrition and exercise, he went to sites about labor and delivery.
At some point, he stopped taking notes and just read. He was fascinated. He had no idea what the female body was capable of doing. He thought of Eames, what she had done for her sister and brother-in-law. He thought of Gleason doing this. His mum did this, twice! His heart warmed for all women.
He also looked at sites about genetic transference of psychotic mental illnesses. He wanted to know if this child could develop schizophrenia. Everything he read was inconclusive. The general thinking was – it was likely hereditary, but the specific generational transfer was uncertain. Bottom line, if it was in the familial genetic pool, some offspring, at some point, was going to have it. This made Bobby uneasy.
"Hi," said Gleason softly. She was wrapped in her green throw.
Bobby's head snapped up and he looked at her. He shut the lid to the laptop and set it aside. He closed his portfolio and stood up, moving to her. "Hi, Sweetheart. How do you feel?" He gathered her in his arms. She leaned into him.
"What are you doing?" she said against his chest.
"Nothing. Just playing till you woke up. Are you hungry?" He held her away and looked at her. The left side of her face bore wrinkles from her pillow and her eyes were slightly puffy from sleep. He bent down and kissed her softly. She has our child inside her, he thought. Oh God. He pulled her toward him again and held her tighter.